


You'll Be Okay

by Meanderfall



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Background Relationships, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Tucker, Oblivious Washington, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meanderfall/pseuds/Meanderfall
Summary: Tucker gets stuck with Washington as his lab partner, and damnit, he's going to make the best of a bad situation, even though he's 90% sure Wash is going to stab him behind the school bleachers before they ever become friends. (It's cool though, Tex and Carolina will avenge his death. Probably. Maybe. If he haunts them for several weeks afterwards.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. I've been working on this fic for a really long time, and I finally got impatient enough to post the first chapter. I hope you guys like it! I'll try to keep a regular update schedule, but I make no promises lol

The bell rang and Tucker reluctantly slammed his locker shut. And then stared at it for a good minute.

He didn’t want to go. He really, really didn’t want to go. Against his own will, he turned away from his locker and started trudging unhappily towards his next class, pulling out his phone to text Church on the way.

_this fckin sux dude_

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

**_Oh my fucking god r u still complaining about that_ **

**_its ur own fault anyway_ **

**_mr smartypants couldnt help trying for once_ **

Tucker scowled at his phone screen, stopped a few feet away from the classroom. He hated that Church was right.

Usually, Tucker made sure to keep his grades on the high 60s, low 70s range, because doing any better made people expect things from you, which fucking sucked, and if you did worse, you would have to repeat a grade, which would _suck even more_. But his science teacher last year had made a comment about how “of course I shouldn’t have expected any better” and “I don’t know why he even bothers coming to class”, and there was no way Tucker was going to take that laying down. So on the final test, he pulled out all the stops and got the highest grade in the class just to spite her. It backfired horribly of course, (because that was his fucking life) and the teacher hated his guts, so she put his name forward for Advanced Science. And he got accepted in the placement, somehow. He had no idea how she managed to swing that with the administration, it wasn’t like he was doing any better in his other classes (at this point he was sure it was some kind of conspiracy to make him suffer). And he couldn’t refuse because his parents were so proud of him and hearing the news made Junior try harder at school, so here he was in an AP Science Class that was no doubt going to be the worst part of his school year. Even worse than Gym. Fuck his life.

_how was I supposed to know there was an ap science class???_

_this school is shit they shouldnt be able to afford it_

**_lina wouldn’t have come if there werent at least some ap classes_ **

**_nor would dear old dad let us come if it wasnt up to his standards_ **

_tell that to the leaky ceilings_

_i swear one day it will just rot away and collapse on someone_

_hopefully me_

**_stop bitching tucker_ **

**_at least youre not in remedial math class with fucking CABOOSE_ **

**_and the teacher fucking refuses to let me switch partners_ **

**_its horseshit_ **

_i still cant believe you were put in that class_

_how the hell does a tech whiz fail math_

_how the fuck do you fail math when both your older sister and your girlfriend are fucking geniuses_

**_lina has more important things to worry about_ **

**_and do you really expect me to give that kind of ammo to tex?_ **

**_sht g2g teach starin @ me_ **

Tucker sighed before shoving his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie. He then murderously glared at his class’s door. He was already a good ten minutes late, but he didn’t care. He’d rather cut off his own arm and beat himself to death with it then go into class. But his mom had some kind of sixth sense for when he skipped class (Tucker was pretty sure she knew by how less miserable he was during the days he skipped) and he’d get in so much trouble for skipping, especially on the first day. Plus, avoiding the hall monitors was too much work. Better to zone out in class than to hide somewhere only to get caught and even get detention.

Tucker opened the door and entered the classroom, cutting off the teacher mid-lecture.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up. Lavernius Tucker, I take it?” The teacher, a blond, white man asked, pushing his square-rimmed glasses higher up his nose.

“Yep,” Tucker answered, a winning smile on his face, hands shoved into his jeans pockets.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. “I see. Well, I’m your science teacher for the year, Professor Doyle. You just missed the opportunity to choose your lab partner for the year, so you’ll be working with Mr. David Washington. Why don’t you go join him in the back of the class?”

Oh, goddamnit. If he hadn’t taken his sweet time, he might have been able to partner up with a chick, making the class at least slightly more tolerable.

Swallowing his disappointment (because like hell he was going to show the teacher any vulnerability), he made his way towards the back of the class, and the one table that had a spot free. At least his partner knew where the best spot to sit was.

 Tucker couldn’t actually see his partner because his blond head was turned to stare out the window, and honestly, Tucker couldn’t blame him. However, as he approached the seat, the kid must’ve sensed movement because he turned to glare murderously at Tucker, which was, y’know, fucking _rude_. But Tucker also valued his wellbeing and safety, and he honestly felt way beyond threatened so he just sat in his seat, leaning far away as possible from his potentially violent partner.

 He wasn’t even kidding about feeling threatened. Tucker was used to being glared at with the promise of extreme violence in the person’s eyes; he grew up with Church and Carolina, and spent time with Tex. Not to mention that he enjoyed being a little shit and annoying the hell out of them, so yes, he knew what it was like to be toeing the very thin line before bodily harm and gotten that cold warning (had even gone a step past it a few times and paid the consequences). But he’d gotten used to it, to the point that it barely bothered him anymore. Hell, most of the time he would grin back, completely unrepentant, and get either a fond sigh in return or a fond punch in the shoulder (that actually hurt like a bitch, so maybe not that fond).

But this kid. His glare made the hair rise on the back of his neck and made him was tense up completely, almost bracing himself to get pummelled at some point (not that Tucker would take it lying down. One of the benefits of growing up with Lina and having Tex as a friend was that neither of them took to them being hurt very well and did what they could to prepare them for a fight). There was something almost ferocious in his gaze, and his grey eyes were cold. The deep bags underneath his eyes didn’t help in the least, nor the numerous band-aids that criss-crossed his face, and Tucker got the distinct impression that the kid was pissed, fucking tired with the world in general, and was perfectly a-okay with murdering a dude. Tucker knew, at least, that Lina and Tex actually liked him a little bit (that or he was so far beneath them that murdering him would be a waste of their time) but it was obvious that his lab partner did not give a single shit about him or anyone and had no compunction to even pretend like he wouldn’t hurt someone.

That being the case, Tucker was careful to avoid looking directly at him, keeping his gaze directed at either the guy’s hands that were being covered with his oversized grey hoodie (a weirdly adorable sight that did not fit with the guy’s general attitude and made Tucker kind of uncomfortable) or at the teacher at the front.

But the teacher was giving that stupid spiel of the general rules of the school and class, the same stupid rules that Tucker had been hearing in all of his classes, at the beginning of _every_ school year, and he could already feel his brain cells dying off, listening to him. He was, of course, in a class of giant geeks, which meant everyone else was paying attention (or they were pretending they were, because they thought it was important to be polite to teachers for some reason). The only one who wasn’t was this Washington person sitting next to him, who, after glaring at Tucker for even existing, had likely assumed his warning at been well received, and had turned back to stare out the window. So Tucker kept glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

He was curious, all right? So sue him. Not many people were that vicious on a first meeting and damn if there wasn’t something vaguely familiar about the dude. Some memory was niggling at the back of his mind but for the life of him, Tucker couldn’t remember. It definitely had something to do with the guy’s attitude, Tucker was almost sure of it. Come to think of it, Tucker had been in this tiny school for most of his life and could at least recognize everybody’s faces, but this guy seemed kind of new…

In his distraction, Tucker’s glances became less discrete peeks and turned into blatant staring, his eyes roaming over the guy’s form because seriously who the fuck was he? What was Tucker missing? Washington’s shoulders hunched a little bit and he turned back to glare at Tucker again.

“ _What?_ ” he hissed.

Tucker’s eyes widened, the memory finally slotting into place. Oh. Oh, _shit_.

“Nothing, dude. Sorry,” Tucker said, turning back to the front. From the corner of his eye, Tucker could see Washington scowl, somehow looking even _angrier_ , before turning to the front as well (and call him paranoid, but Tucker was certain he was doing it so he could keep Tucker in his line of sight).

God fucking damnit. He was going to have David fucking Washington as his class partner for the rest of the year?

Discretely, Tucker pulled out his phone and started texting Church.

_Dude get me the fuck out of this class_

**_STOP. BITCHING. DO YOU DO ANYTHING ELSE WITH YOUR LIFE_ **

_Im paired with DAVID WASHINGTON Church, I think that calls for some bitching_

**_Oh_ **

**_Shit_ **

That was putting it mildly, in Tucker’s opinion. Washington had transferred into their high school during the last few months of the school year. Usually, Tucker would’ve had zero idea because he wasn’t in any of his classes, would’ve probably only heard about it from Donut who knew everything about everyone, if it weren’t for the fact that _everyone_ in the school was talking about him. There were so many rumours flying around about him; that he was drug addict, that he was on medication, that he had transferred because he had killed one of his previous classmates… And even though Tucker didn’t pay close attention to rumours, the sheer amount of rumours and how dark they were was enough to make him uneasy. Washington made such an impression that whenever he showed up in the corridors, a hush would fall over the other students and they would start whispering to each other, obviously talking about him. Tucker had only witnessed a few of those moments, but he could guess it got old really fucking quick. No wonder he was always in a bad mood.

And usually that would make Tucker sympathetic, because goddamn dude, this school was treating him like a wild animal, liable to attack them without any provocation. But then, after a few weeks of this happening, some of the school bullies had skipped school for a few days and then came back bruised to hell, some of them with broken wrists or legs. It was fucked up. Tucker had zero idea how or why it had happened, but he sure as hell was planning to stay as far away from Washington as possible. And the entire school felt the same, because there was always a wide berth between him and every other student in the school. Summer vacation had let him forget, but confronted with him again, it brought it all back, along with the unease and fear.

**_At least he’s not as bad as Felix?_ **

Tucker scowled. _Fair point_

Felix was the biggest and most asshole-ish douchebag in the universe. An idea struck Tucker that had him eyeing Washington speculatively. Wash seemed to have something against assholes… Maybe Tucker could convince him to break Felix’s leg? Because if there was one person who fucking deserved to get the shit kicked out him, it was Felix, and the fucking coward always made sure to piss him off when he wasn’t around the others. Tucker may be a lover and not a fighter, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be left the fuck alone.

Washington probably noticed he was staring again, but didn’t turn around this time.  He did look ten thousand times more tense though, and got tenser and tenser as the silence between them stretched on. Desperate to break the silence, and hopefully stop Washington from completely locking up his joints, Tucker blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Soooooo… Your name is David Washington right? Mine’s Lavernius Tucker, but most people call me Tucker. You have a preference for what I call you?”

Okay, so not as bad as talking about the weather, but not the most interesting topic of conversation. Still, Tucker waited patiently for Washington to respond. A minute passed, then two, then three, and Washington was still resolutely staring at Professor Doyle, continuing to blather on about regulations and assignments in the future. A bit annoyed, Tucker sighed and turned towards the front too.

“Come on, dude, we’re partners now. Calling you David Washington the entire time is going to get old real fast. And you probably wouldn’t want me to come up with a nickname for you.” Bored, and uninterested with what the teacher was saying, Tucker opened up his notebook and started doodling shapes in the margins of the paper.

“Though on second thought, whatever nickname I come up for you would be ten times better than anything Caboose or Church would come up with. Church would probably call you something like ‘buttmunch’, but he’s an asshole like 99% of the time, so don’t take it personally. Caboose would… Dude, I’m not even sure what Caboose would call you, who knows what goes on inside his head most of the time.”

“Washington,” a voice interrupted his rambling monologue, and honestly thank God, Tucker had zero idea what the fuck he was even going on about, just that he had to fill the silence in some way. “Just call me Washington.” His voice was quiet, but curt and there was a serious ‘shut-the-fuck-up’ note in it.

Tucker flashed him a huge grin, before turning back to his doodles.

“Will do, dude.”

It became silent once again, while Tucker tried and failed repeatedly to pay attention to the class, and Washington was stiff and radiating ‘I will hurt you’ vibes that made Tucker super uneasy. It was obvious that Washington didn’t actually want to be here and hated the world around him. What was Tucker supposed to do? Ignore him and hope for the best?

At the very least, they were going to be lab partners, and Tucker sure as shit wasn’t going to go through this fucking class weathering Wash’s hostility, nor spend it in complete silence. Fuck that noise. Tucker was going to befriend Washington if it was the last thing he did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Work is a thing and I've been tired a lot lately. I hope you guys like it! And thank you so much for the kudos and bookmarks and reviews so far! <3

For the rest of the first class, Tucker didn’t talk with him. He could tell he was treading a very thin line between being tolerable to downright annoying to Wash, and the goal was to make a friend, not piss him off. Besides, shortly after, Professor Doyle started to actually teach some material, and Tucker knew he should _try_ to pay attention, even though he spent most of it zoning out and then tuning in back long enough to know he was confused as fuck, before going back to daydreaming. Considering that after a ten minutes of Tucker not saying a word to him, Washington turned to stare back out the window, Tucker was pretty certain his lab partner had missed out on things too. Which kind of sucked, because this meant they were both going to be fucking lost when the first lab happened, but at least they were going to be confused together. A true and equal partnership.

The day passed by pretty quickly after that, though the lunch period was, as always, loud and argumentative. His science class had ended early and, being right before lunch period, Tucker was waiting for everyone else to show up at their table (that was located in the corner of the room, because the school had collectively agreed they were too loud to be in the middle interrupting everyone else’s conversations. He wasn’t even close to joking, there was a petition that a fair number of students had signed).

First was Grif and Simmons, quietly bickering about what the perfect plan for a zombie apocalypse was. Tucker grunted a greeting at them, one they barely acknowledged, being too caught up in one another to pay attention to others. Tucker stifled a yawn as he listened. Usually, he’d be interjecting and giving his own opinion, but they had all collectively agreed that the Zombie Apocalypse Plan was a conversation that only two people in their group could have at a time, ever since the Summer Showdown of 2013. Voices were lost, punches thrown, and noses broken. Failure to comply meant you had to put a dollar in the Asshole jar (which actually did very little to stop them from being assholes, it just meant that most of them were fucking broke. Except for Church, whose dad was rich and didn’t care in the slightest what his kids did unless it concerned him directly, which was fortunate for Church because or else he’d be hundreds of dollars in debt by now.)

Donut came to the table next, holding hands and chatting excitedly with his boyfriend Doc (well, his name was actually Frank, but since he wanted to be a doctor later on and he was the one who cautioned them the most about their crazy antics and then treated their injuries whenever things inevitably went south, Doc was the nickname he went by. Actually, Tucker was pretty sure that Church and Caboose and Grif had all forgotten his real name by now).

“Hey, Donut. Doc. How’s your day been so far?” Tucker greeted, bored out of his skull and the cafeteria food was only good at distracting him with how horrifying it was. It was always better to not look too closely at what you were eating.

“Pretty good, Tucker!” Donut beamed. “Me and Doc are in the same history and math class, so we spent the morning together, and we caught up with some of our other friends and we learnt everything we missed over the summer.”

“Oh yeah? Anything interesting?”

“Weeeellll,” Donut drawled, thinking it over while they both sat down. “Jo-enes apparently threw such an amazing party that the cops were called, and O’Malley was arrested.” Doc made a sympathetic noise. Honestly, none of them knew exactly what was Doc’s connection with O’Malley, but they were apparently close. Or at least, Doc cared about him. But maybe that wasn’t saying much, since Doc cared about everybody.

“Oh! Katie Jensen hasn’t shown up yet for school, which, considering her, is very concerning. We should go check up on her after school, Doc.”

“Oh, absolutely! That will also give me the opportunity to check if the other rumour is true, and maybe provide my assistance to make things easier for her,” Doc said, thoughtful, and Tucker was pretty sure he was making a mental list of what to get at the pharmacy before stopping by.

“Woah, woah, woah! What other rumour?” Tucker asked. Doc and Donut turned to each other, silently communicating and probably debating whether or not to tell him.

“Come on, guuuyys,” Tucker whined. “You can’t drop that kind of hint and leave me hanging.”

Donut huffed. “Some of the boys were speculating that she dropped out because she’s pregnant. Which is completely unfounded, and some of the things they were saying about her was just plain rude!” Throughout that small tirade, Donut got visibly angrier, flushing a little and scowling angrily.

“Uh, not to mention completely impossible?” Tucker said, both indignant on Jensen’s behalf and bemused at the rumour.

Donut turned to him, curious. “What do you mean?” It wasn’t often Donut didn’t know something about his classmates.

“She’s gay, dude. Or bi or pan. She’s going out with that volleyball-playing chick. You know, the one who freaks out Simmons?”

“She does _not_ freak me out, she just gets a little too close when talking with me and I don’t like having my personal space invaded!” Simmons interjected.

Grif snorted. “That’s an understatement. I didn’t know not liking something made you freeze up and go mute. Mind telling me what other things you hate?”

“Shut the fuck up, Grif!”

Donut, completely ignoring the other two, gasped. “She is? How didn’t I know this? Did she think she couldn’t come to me to talk? Did I do something to make her think that? Oh, I should apologize when I visit.”

“Hey, woah, dude, chill out!” Tucker lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture. “The only reason I know is because I was with them in gym class last year and had a front row seat to their flirting. I also may have eavesdropped on Volleyball confessing to Jensen.” The last part was muttered quickly, obviously hoping Donut wouldn’t hear.

He still gasped in shock and said “ _Tucker_ ” obviously rearing to go into a scolding.

“Listen, okay, it wasn’t my fault. I was on my way to class and they were in the way and I didn’t want to interrupt what was happening, so I just waited behind a corner until they left.”

 It wasn’t like that was any fun either. It was probably the most frustrating experience of his life, having to sit silently while the usually confident Volleyball stuttered her way through a confession. Which might have been sweet at any other time, but Tucker had literally spent the entire year pretending like he didn’t see what was happening and watch them close the gap between them, inch by excruciating inch. He kind of wanted to shake them, Jensen for being a little bit oblivious, and Volleyball for her lack of confidence when Jensen was _obviously_ into her. Ah well, it _was_ kind of worth it, seeing how they smiled at each other afterwards, holding hands.

“Well, I guess, that’s okay,” Donut determined after a pause. “We’re still visiting though, right, Doc?”

Tucker could only assume that Doc had agreed as his response was drowned out by the sound of Church bitching out Caboose. Tucker twisted in his chair to see Church rapidly approaching as he yelled to a Caboose that was dogging his steps and nodding along.

“… And for the last. Fucking. Time! Jelly does not resemble a cloud and should not be used as a replacement for a mattress!”

Tucker had stopped trying to understand the conversations between the two a long time ago. They only made sense if you were there from the beginning.

“Hey, Church, Caboose! How was math?”

“Fucking disgusting,” Church said as he plopped down beside Tucker, being only marginally gentler with the trays of food he was carrying. There was always a fifty percent chance that things could go to shit when Caboose carried his own tray, being easily distracted and not always clear on what was happening, so they took turns carrying Caboose’s tray to the table, as well as making sure Caboose didn’t get lost.

“Lots of fun, Tucker! We learnt how to tell what the smiley face was really thinking inside his head. He kept getting confused over what he was feeling, but I know how to help him now.”

Tucker had no fucking idea what he was talking about, but smiled anyway. “Good job, buddy.”

Church snorted beside him. “We learnt about the priority of operations with exponents. A five year old could do it.”

“That’s funny, coming from someone who’s actually _in_ Caboose’s class,” Grif said.

“Shut up. And what did we say about PDA?” Church asked, looking pointedly at Doc’s and Donut’s interlocked hands.

“Aw, come on, Church! You only said no kissing and hugging!” Donut pleaded.

“That looks a lot like a hug to me. It’s hand-hugging. Worse, because it’s sneakier.”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “No wonder you get along so well with Tex. Just let it go, dude. It’s not the end of the world.”

Church grumbled under his breath as he tucked into the gray mush that was lunch.

“Probably gets it from his dad,” Grif muttered.

Church sighed. “What did he do now?”

“Oh, nothing, just told Sheila that she wasn’t allowed to date Lopez.”

“His exact words were that ‘it was unprofessional’ and ‘a violation against company policy’, which is bullshit because Sheila knows the rules like the back of her hand and she would have hidden it better or asked permission first if it was actually in the rules,” Simmons added.

Tucker gave a low whistle. “Oh man, I can’t imagine Sheila taking any of that well. How did she react?”

Grif smirked. “‘Politely’ reminded the Director that there were no rules like that, that he had no business dictating her personal life, and that if he still had issues with it he could fire her, but good luck finding anyone who could properly replace her.”

“Holy fuck, I wish I could’ve seen that!”

“Yup. She’s still kind of pissed off though, so I suggest, Church, that you tread lightly these next few days.”

Tucker snorted. “When isn’t there a female not pissed off at Church?”

“Lina likes me! …Mostly. A good part of the time, anyway.”

“She’s your sister though, that doesn’t count.”

“How is Carolina doing by the way?” Donut asked.

Church shrugged, seemingly unconcerned if it wasn’t for his small frown. “Fine, I guess. Still doing her weekly call-ins with dad. Doesn’t text me much anymore.”

Tucker, seeing the mood shift, jumped in. “So, I have the school’s outcast as my lab partner.”

“And how did that go?” Church asked, smirking a little.

“The fuck you think dude? I thought he was going to rip my throat out.”

“Uhh, who are we talking about here?” Grif questioned.

“Washington,” Tucker said, and then rolled his eyes, seeing the growing confusion on Grif’s face, “you know, the transfer student last year? Acted like everyone was out to get him? Probably beat the shit out of Gary and O’Malley?”

At the last point, Grif’s eyes cleared. “Oh yeah, him! Did the world a favour! No offense, Doc.”

Doc nodded sadly. “O’Malley can at times be difficult. I really don’t think violence is the appropriate response to anything, but I can sometimes see why you would want to.”

Everyone besides Doc and Donut, glanced at each uncertainly. ‘Difficult’ was putting O’Malley’s attitude and actions mildly.

“Do you think he could do the same for Felix and Locus?”

“Grif!” Donut scolded.

“I wondered that too!” Tucker exclaimed.

“Tucker! We are not going to try and bait someone into beating up the people we don’t like,” Donut lectured.

“Yeah, that’s what Tex is for,” Church said.

Tucker snorted. “I would pay you ten bucks to say that to her face.”

“Tucker, I could use those ten bucks to pay her to punch you in the face and she would do it.”

“You saying you don’t like me, Church?”

“I can’t believe you actually have a brain in there.”

“Yeah, Tucker, Church likes _me_ ,” Caboose boasted proudly.

“Church doesn’t like anyone, not even himself,” Grif muttered a smidge too loudly to be ignored, and the conversation quickly devolved into them arguing over Church’s supposed likes and dislikes that went abso-fucking-lutely nowhere, the previous topics forgotten.

The rest of the week passed without incident, to the point that Tucker actually forgot about his problem in science class. It hit him so suddenly that he actually stopped dead in his tracks on the way to his seat when he saw Washington sitting at their table.

Great, okay. He could do this. He just had to draw Washington into conversation somehow. He managed to befriend Church right? How hard could it be to make friends with Washington?

…Then again, he befriended Church by bothering him for weeks asking if he could play with his cool toy truck before Church had given in and thrown it at his face in a huff and walked away. He had to run after him, truck in hand and nose bleeding, explaining that he wanted to play _with_ him before Church finally seemed to get it and they hadn’t been separated since. So maybe that wasn’t the best experience to use to boost his confidence.

As he continued to his seat, Tucker wracked his brain, trying to think of a topic of conversation, but the aisle was too goddamn short and by the time he reached his seat he was still floundering.

“’Sup dude,” he said as he slid in his seat. Washington didn’t glare at him, which was kind of nice, but he did not move his eyes from where he was staring intently at his textbook.

“So, ummm… You got a girlfriend?” As soon as the question left his lips, Tucker wanted to smack himself. What kind of fucking stupid question was that? Everyone in the school hated him and he sure as shit didn’t transfer because he was having too good of a time at his previous school. But he was in too deep now to backtrack or apologize so he just kept the suave grin on his face.

“No? How ‘bout a boyfriend?” Washington had been fidgeting with the page of textbook but at that point his hand curled into a fist, crumpling and ripping the page, and _holy shit was his hand bleeding?_

“Yeah, I’m just gonna… stop talking now.” And Tucker determinedly faced the front and refused to so much as glance at the bomb he might’ve inadvertently set off next to him for the entirety of the class. He barely registered what was happening in class, but his notes were the cleanest and most in-depth they had ever been in his life. Who knew teachers wrote so much on the blackboard?

The bell rang and Tucker had every intention of hauling ass out of there, but a firm and downright painful grip wrapped around his shoulder and he soon found himself being dragged out of class and slammed against a locker.

“Ow! Dude, what the fuck?” Tucker asked, absolutely indignant, and rubbed his now aching shoulder.

"What do you want from me?" Washington hissed. His hand was pushing against his chest, forcing him up against the locker, and his face was way too close for comfort. His mind might have turned to the wrong thoughts if it weren't for Washington's cold, harsh gray eyes that easily precluded any kind of fun times.

"Dude, relax, I'm just trying to make friends!"

"Do you think I'm an idiot? That I haven't seen all this before? Leave me the _fuck_ alone." And with that, Washington stalked off, leaving Tucker behind and reeling from what happened.

What.

An utter.

_Douchebag_.

*

"Honestly, what the fuck is his problem?! Who even does that?!" Tucker paced back and forth behind the couch where Church, Tex, and Junior were playing a fighting game. He'd been ranting and raving about what had happened ever since they got here, and he was sure Church and Tex were sick of his shit, but he was so freaking _pissed_.

"Here's a crazy thought, Tucker: why don't you try shutting up?" Church said, sickeningly sweet, before shrieking at Tex for her unfair combo.

"Hey, I only said I'd go easy for the pipsqueak over here. You, on the other hand? You're getting _demolished_."

"Why in the fuck do I even like you."

"'Cause she's awesome," Junior piped up, and Tex fairly preened at the compliment while Church grumbled to himself about being outnumbered.

"Uh, guys? Why aren't we focusing on my issue?"

Church sighed and dropped his controller to the floor, having lost his last life, before turning to look at Tucker over the couch. "Dude, it's not rocket science. You were being a nosy prick and he didn't like it. Just leave the guy alone. The only reason you're even trying to befriend the guy is because you don't want to deal with his attitude or be stuck with all the work."

Tucker paused. "Well, when you say it like that, I sound like a selfish asshole."

Church raised an eyebrow. _And you_ aren't _?_ it said. Mocking him. Tucker wanted to shave off that fucking eyebrow.

This time Junior turned around. "I thought we were only supposed to make friends with people we like and care about."

"Don't you have homework to do?"

Junior drooped. "Okay... But I need your help!" Tucker stared into Junior's pleading and oh-so-innocent eyes. Tucker knew that Junior didn't actually need him. And he knew that Junior knew that he could do it on his own. He just wanted Tucker to be there with him while he did it. There was only one response he could give.

Tucker easily caved. "Alright, buddy, come set up your stuff in the kitchen."

As Junior ran to get his schoolbag, Tex stood up and stretched. "And that's my cue to leave."

"Y'know, Lina is away on a school trip and won't be visiting this weekend. And Dear Old Dad said he'd be busy tonight and wouldn't come home until late."

Tex visibly hesitated, before shaking her head, ponytail swishing. "Nah, I gotta make a hit anyway. I'll see you losers on Saturday for movie night."

Church sighed and dropped back on the couch. "Goddamn..."

"You hate for her to leave, but love to watch her go?" Tucker smirked.

"Shut up."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by "being so sick I can't sleep at night" and "incredible guilt over not updating for so long". In association with "Oh god, it's been so long, I've forgotten everything". (Legit though, thank you all so much for your comments and patience with me. Things have been hectic, what with moving and all. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long.)

Wash moved quickly through the corridors, head low. If there was one thing he learnt quickly after everything, it was that eye contact made people twitchy and, if they were feeling particularly arrogant or insecure, challenged. Better to move past everyone and avoid a fight than to hang back and give someone the chance to hate your existence and want to do something about it. 

Classes were usually a welcome respite. If you sat in the back, no one could look at you and mostly forgot you were even there. And if you were really lucky, the teacher wouldn’t notice you either. 

But this was science class and Wash found himself dreading going in. The weekend had gone by and with that step back in perspective, he could quietly admit to himself that he had overreacted to what the other teen, Tucker, had asked. He should’ve just ignored him like he did last time. 

But it was the second class and he was  _still_  talking to him, and that never meant anything good. Tucker had a joking manner to him and he could only imagine that anything Wash would give him would just be fuel for taunts, and he did not want to go through an entire year of his lab partner quietly making digs at him, just daring him to react in any way because they both knew that if he did,  _Wash_  would be the one getting into trouble. 

Still. Getting physical like that wasn’t necessary, and he was damn lucky that Tucker apparently didn’t want to get the teachers involved. 

He didn’t know how Tucker was going to react when he saw him again, and it was tying his stomach into knots. The best case scenario would be Tucker ignoring him from now on; eyes cold and turning away to speak with the people next to them. And it  _was_  the best case scenario, even though his heart sank a little bit in his chest every time he pictured it. The worst case scenario, and honestly the most likely one, would be Tucker continuing his talks and jokes but with the added undercurrent of threat that if things went too far again, he could go straight to a teacher and get himself suspended. Again. Or, considering his current track record, expelled.  _Again_. And fuck, he didn’t want to see his dad’s reaction if he found that Wash had gotten himself kicked out of yet another school. So Wash would have to grin and bear it, until he just... couldn’t anymore. Which honestly wouldn’t last long. 

Wash dumped his things onto his desk, and slumped into his chair, the first person in the classroom as was his custom. He flipped the hood of his hoodie on his head low enough he could only see his own desk and hands and crossed his arms, curling into himself. God, he wasn’t looking forward to this. He would’ve just skipped the class, skipped the entire school day, but that would just be admitting he was weak, and he wasn’t a coward. If people wanted to hate him, fine. If they wanted to tell rumours about him, fine. If they wanted to taunt him, bully him, mock him, beat him up,  _fine_. He just wouldn't ever give them the satisfaction of knowing how much he hated it. 

Wash glared furiously down at his fists and waited. And all too soon, he heard footsteps and felt a presence hovering near him. Wash allowed himself a quick glance at the clock without looking directly at Tucker, and realized that, in fact, it wasn’t his sense of time messing up. Tucker had shown early for class for once. To talk to him, in all likelihood. Great. 

Tucker shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. When he didn’t respond, Tucker sighed. “Washington?” 

Wash turned slightly towards him but still didn’t make eye contact. “What?” 

He closed his eyes for a moment, frustrated. Too harsh, too challenging. Not what he wanted if he wanted to avoid anymore trouble. 

Tucker muttered something to himself, too low for Wash to actually hear, but he had a good idea of what was being said. “Look, Wash. I mean, Washington. I’m sorry. I’ve been kind of a total dick to you, and bothering you when you clearly want to be left alone. So, I’m sorry.” 

Shocked, Wash finally looked at Tucker. His usual swagger was gone, his shoulders kind of hunched and he was gripping the strap of his backpack tightly, awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. His gaze flitted from Wash’s and away, looking over the classroom, until he noticed that Wash was staring at him in silence and he scowled. “What? Why are you staring at me like that? I’m not so far up my own ass that I can’t own up to a mistake and apologize, you know.” And then softly, under his breath, “That would be Church.” 

The entire thing felt so unreal to him that he wasn’t sure he wasn’t hallucinating. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to take this. Should he apologize back? Just accept it? Reject it? Actually say something back? He was so baffled. This entire thing was weird. But considering he’d been feeling that way about Tucker ever since his first conversation with him, maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. Tucker was just... strange. 

… And waiting for a response. “Um, sure, okay.” Wash finally stuttered out. 

Tucker squinted at him. “You sure, dude? You don’t seem okay.” 

“Yeah, it’s fine, whatever.” Wash just wanted the entire thing done with. 

Tucker straightened up and grinned brilliantly at him, and  _why_  would he be so happy that Wash accepted his apology? Was this actually, really so important to him, that it would change his entire mood? “Sweet! I’ll try to stay out of your hair from now on, but we do have to work together on projects and stuff. Sorry about that.” 

Wash’s stomach dropped. He didn’t know why he hated that offer so much, but he didn’t want that to happen. For Tucker to ignore him, like he had so far, and since Tucker had apparently been genuine this entire time, wouldn’t make Wash the bigger asshole of the two? 

Wash looked down and fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves. “You don’t have to do that.” He muttered. 

“What? Not talk to you?” Tucker sounded confused, and god what was Wash doing? Maybe this was the out Tucker had been looking for the entire time to not have to spend time with him.  

He clenched his fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands. He only nodded. 

“Umm, alright, dude, if that’s what you want? But you can tell me to shut up, you know, it won’t bother me and like... I know I can be annoying.” His voice got quieter near the end, and Wash found he didn’t like hearing that note in Tucker’s voice. 

Wash huffed, not quite a laugh, and looked at Tucker. “I’ve met worse.” 

Tucker’s expression brightened yet again, and warmth bloomed in Wash’s chest. “You say that now, but just wait in a couple of weeks. Or if, God forbid, you meet Caboose.” 

Wash frowned a little. Tucker had mentioned Caboose before. He thought they were friends, but maybe he made the wrong assumption there. Or maybe it was just friendly teasing, considering the conversation going on before? He didn’t really know and couldn’t really ask because at this point, Professor Doyle finally started the class. 

They didn’t really talk much beyond that, but Wash found himself actually paying attention to what was being said and glancing over at what Tucker was doing. Which ended up the occasional note followed by a ridiculous amount of doodles, and Wash was positive Tucker was paying less attention than Wash did on his worse days, when he would just stare at a fixed point and zone out completely, loss in thought and yet trying desperately to drown them out with white noise. 

When class ended, Wash found himself lingering a little bit, hands hovering over his binder and textbook. Tucker was haphazardly stuffing his things into his bag and Wash was... Wash didn’t know what he doing. Scoffing to himself, he grabbed his stuff and left in a hurry. 

He was being ridiculous. Just because Tucker said he wanted to be on friendly terms didn’t actually mean anything. They were stuck together for an entire school year, it didn’t mean anything. He should count himself lucky that Tucker didn’t want to outright ignore him for that entire year, as some other people have done, or ask to switch to a different team and leave him on his own. This wasn’t some kind of- of- invitation to friendship. 

Wash froze in his tracks. Oh,  _God_. Was that what he had been secretly hoping for the entire time? Why he hated the thought of Tucker of no longer talking to him, why he felt so pleased that he made Tucker smile? He wanted to be friends with him? Oh my God, he was  _pathetic_. 

… But Tucker had apologized to him. The entire thing was still weird to him, even now, just remembering it. But he had  _apologized_. And maybe Tucker just wanted to stay on friendly terms, but that didn’t mean Wash couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted. And if he was very lucky, and if didn’t fuck this up for himself, maybe next year they could be in another class together and be teammates again. 

Wash was ripped out of his thoughts as he was roughly pushed into a locker. Pain erupted along his side and head. Only habit stopped him from dropping his things. He looked around, but he couldn’t pinpoint any real culprit. The chuckles that surrounded him from those who witnessed what had happened didn’t help much either. 

Right. He had almost forgotten. He clutched his things tighter to himself and moved swiftly to his next class. At least it wasn’t lunchtime, so no one had the opportunity to linger and really make him regret getting lost in thought. 


End file.
